


Taking Stock

by Leticheecopae



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Butchering, Cannibalism, Drug Use, F/M, First Time, Just all around messed up, Kidnapping, Murder, Size Difference, Suicide, Suicide by Overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leticheecopae/pseuds/Leticheecopae
Summary: Leatherface was used to their stock screaming, at least in pain and fear. He's never heard one like the doe his brother brought home, though.
Relationships: Leatherface | Bubba "Junior" Sawyer/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 23





	Taking Stock

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commissioned piece that was both fun and a bit hard to work on. Trying to find a balance and create a POV from Leatherface was just...whoo. It was intense. 
> 
> Please know that there is no rape in this story, nor does any of the violence in the tags pertain to the sex scene. It gets rough, but there is no murderous intent or anything. It is also made dubious due to the character in question being intoxicated. I wanted to make this clear for readers.

The car lights were what beckoned him out of the house, alerting him to the arrival of someone new. It wasn’t Big brother, he only had one light working, and this was distinctly two. The dinged-up truck had pulled up towards the house, right up to the porch, and he’d watched a scrawny little buck stumble out of the cabin as he was birthed to the world on shaking legs.

He’d trotted right onto their property, beat-up rubber hoofs scattering around gravel as he went to piss on the side of the porch. In the truck, Leatherface could hear Little brother laugh, saw his hair shining greasily in the yellow light. He shot a smile at him out the window, his grin wide, and it told Leatherface that this little buck was ready for the slaughter. So out he came, making the floorboards creak as he held his hammer, ready to run if he spooked the little buck, but they didn’t move. Instead, it looked up at him, doe-eyed and reeking of the beer that Little brother liked and the vodka that his Big brother always poured on his wounds and drank after dinner.

Leatherface took one swing and knocked those eyes right out of his head, a one-hit-one-kill as Big brother liked to call it. But the only one who saw it was Little brother, and he was as rank as the dead buck. He could smell him from the porch. 

“Get him inside, I-I’ll pull the truck around,” he called excitedly from the car window. Leatherface could hear someone else inside, but that wasn’t for him to worry about. He just needed to worry about breaking down the body and getting it set up and spread out for Big brother to whip up into something for dinner and to sell at the shop. They were getting low on sausage. 

So back into the house he’d gone, the new slab of meat over his shoulder, and to his workshop he went. The hip joint tore with a slick sound that he knew Grandpa would be proud of. He pulled the leg loose and hung the thigh up on a hook, an old bucket red with rust and stained with all matter of gore catching the blood that dripped down. It was in rough shape, but it did its job and kept the worst of the slickness off the floor. He didn’t care about the blood, but he did care about him and the others falling. Last time Big brother had slipped, Leatherface had gotten beaten with the spatula — the metal one that had all the chips in it from Big brother drunkenly jabbing it into the grill. That hadn’t been a good night, and he’d had to pour that awful vodka on his arms.

Taking out another knife, he went to remove the intestines nice and gently from the slit right over the hip bone and through the belly's pitiful amount of muscle and fat. Barely good enough for stew meat, but at least they’d have new sausage casings, and the legs at least had a decent amount of muscle on them. Must have been a runner. 

The first scream took him slightly by surprise, and he jerked around, hand tight on the still-warm innards. Standing still, he listened, panting behind his mask (the one he made from the heifer who had the pretty green eye-lids and three chins). The backdoor banged open, and with it came Little brother’s voice.

“—’re not goin’ anywhere, missy!” he cried out gleefully. “We’re not done h-havin’ fun, yet!” The laugh he gave was high and happy, and Leatherface smiled, feeling the corner of his leathery-mask pull against his lips. He liked it when Little brother laughed like that. It meant he was having fun, and that meant he’d be less likely to make fun of him after they ate. He didn’t like it when he poked at him and said he ate too much. It wasn’t his fault Big brother made everything taste so good. 

Leatherface turned back to the carving table and continued his work, listening as another voice with garbled speech talked back while Little brother took them stumbling upstairs. Well, if he was doing that, then that meant Leatherface was going to need to make sure to prepare enough food for four tonight, plus Grandpa’s juice-jar. 

Speaking of…

From the wall, he snatched up a clean mason jar, the one with the least nicks in the lip, and set it on the shelf below the table. On top of that, he put the large funnel; the one that Big brother always washed himself, saying that Letherface’s fingers were ‘too damn big to get the job done right’. With everything set, it took just a few quick hacks of a knife to open up the chest enough to break the ribs between his hands, making room for him to reach inside and pull out the warm heart. Daintily, he removed it from between the broken shards and set it down on the shelf below the table. He checked to make sure that nothing else but the blood straight from the heart would drip into it. The last thing he wanted was to get anything nasty in it. It was only the best for Grandpa, and when they couldn’t give it to him hot and straight from a screamer, then Leatherface made sure it came from the purest part of the body.

The tip of his knife slipped into the vein, sending a gush of blood out of the heart and into the jar. Without it pumping, he had to rely on gravity to do most of the work, and even then, it wouldn’t be much. But that was okay, Grandpa didn’t drink much anymore, and if he was still hungry, they could still use whoever was upstairs.

Leaving the heart to drain, he rolled the body on its side, letting the tubes of blood dangle more freely over the jar before he continued with the intestines. From upstairs, he could hear the banging above him slow down until he heard nothing but a gentle drag and his Little brother’s boots knocking around. 

“La da, da la dee,” he murmured nonsensically, using the uneven steps above as the basis for a tune that only the severed ears on the wall heard.

——-

Marlene woke up with a headache, unlike anything she’d ever had before. It was also dark, really dark, and for a moment, she thought she may have just slept straight through Saturday and well into Sunday morning. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but that didn’t explain the pain. 

“Mark?” she called, and her voice cracked as she sat up. She was lying on something lumpy —like it was playing at being soft— and she wondered who’s couch and in what basement she had ended up in this time. It took a few coughs before she was able to get enough saliva flowing to lubricate her vocal cords.

“Mark?” she called again, and for a moment, her heart dropped into her shoes. Damn it, he hadn’t left her alone at another house, had he? She wasn’t stranded in some junkies basement? Possibly one that didn’t have a phone? If he had, she’d kill him. That was if he ever crawled out of his drugged up stooper long enough to realize she wasn’t there to suck his cock.

“Son of a bitch,” she grumbled as she went to stand, bare feet dragging over scratchy fabric that felt sticky in places. Just what the fuck had people done on this thing? 

“Gross,” she grumbled as she tried to flick a heavy strap off her foot. As she did, something heavy thudded against her ankle bone, making her hiss as pain shot through the little nub of calcified cells. 

“What in the hell?” 

Her heart dropped for a whole new reason. 

Scrambling in the dark, she grabbed at whatever was wrapped around her ankle, tugging and pulling at the rough leather that was wrapped tight over the skin. It was cracked and rough, chaffing against her fingers as she tugged at it, following the small circumference to find what felt like a padlock.

“No...no no no no no no—” The word kept coming as she pried and pulled, watery memories slipping into her head from the night before as tears dripped thick and heavy from her eyes. They dragged a thin layer of day-old makeup and dirt down her cheeks to set a salty tang on her tongue.

“Help!” the first shriek ripped through her chest with sudden ferocity as she shook the metal. “Mark! Help! You mother fucker! Help me! Someone! This isn’t funny! Help!” She kept screaming pleas of rescue as she followed a chain —rough and rusty beneath her hand— to another lock that kept it wrapped around a pipe. Marlene gripped it hard, rattling it beneath her palms as she screamed again. 

It was loose, but not where it mattered, and it rattled all the way down into whatever hell she’d landed herself in this time.

The thudding of footsteps barely registered in her ears before the door banged open, and a light flicked on, blinding her. 

“Now, what in the hell is going on?” 

Marlene blinked up to find a man standing in the doorway, balding and gaunt with a potbelly that popped out over the waistband of his boxers and was barely covered by a stained undershirt.

“Don’t you know people are tryin’ to sleep around here?”

“Where am I!?” She screamed back in response. “What do you want!?”

Potbelly groaned, dragging a hand over his face before stomping towards her. 

“Now don’t you go yellin’ at me, missy. We haven’ done a damn thing to you except given you a place to sleep for the night. And how do you repay us? By scre—”

“I’m chained to a fucking pipe, you bastard!” 

The man raised his hand up, ready to make a swipe before she heard a tired, familiar voice from the hall.

“Hey, now w-w-what in the hell is going on?” 

Long and lanky, in nothing but a stained set of tighty-whities, came someone she recognized.

“YOU!” She howled. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER! We got you off the road! We brought you home! We—”

“Aw shut up, before I cut yer tongue out,” the greasy skeleton of a hitchhiker said with a dismissive swat of a hand. 

That did shut her up, at least for a second. 

“Cut my…” she murmured. “Wait. Mark. Where’s Mark?”

The sleepy curtain on Hitchhiker’s face cleared for a moment as he smiled at her. The same, fucked-up smile that had made her not want to let him into the truck in the first place, but she had been too off her nut to articulate it, let alone shove him when he had gotten in. Mark had just laughed and hit the gas. That was the last thing she remembered before they had pulled off, he and Mark had been talking about... sleeping? She wasn’t sure, but even with his laughter ringing in her ears, the booze and the crash had dragged her down into unconsciousness. 

“Where is he you bastards!?”

The backhand took her by surprise. Sharp, warm pain filled her mouth with the coppery flavor of blood. 

“I said to SHUT UP! You’re in MY house and you’ll listen to MY rules, ya hear?” The kick to her stomach took the wind out of her, stirring up her stomach and making her gag. 

“Now hush your mouth, or I’ll let my brother here cut out your vocal cords and make you a necklace.”

“Can I do it anyways? I haven’t gotten to do that yet. D-d-did you know they make violin strings out of cat guts? Dry ‘em out and—”

“Shut up, and go back to bed,” Potbelly grumbled as he turned around. 

“Please,” Marlene called after him. “Tell me, what did you do with Mark?”

“You’ll l-learn soon enough, missy,” the Hitchhiker cackled, grinning at her as he shut the door. 

“Wait!” She screamed out. “WAIT!”

“Leatherface, get in there and shut that bitch up!” she heard Potbelly snap from the hall. 

It was followed by the sound of groaning wood as large, lumbering steps could be heard, their tempo slightly off. When the door opened, she had expected another man looking like the first two, maybe a bit bigger, but this man was a bear; huge in a pair of flannel shorts that looked like they may have once been pants. The cloth was threadbare as it sat snug on his hips, making the skin dimple out and cutting into the base of the barrel of his belly. 

He was covered in dark, thick hair, much different than the almost hairless chest of the hitchhiker, and it held almost a soft sheen to it in the dull light. She followed his height up, up, and then blinked. It took her a moment to register why the face she was seeing wasn’t right because it wasn’t a face. Whatever was pulled tight over his head covered all but thick lips and dark eyes that looked more through her than at her.

She screamed as he came closer, a rag of some sort balled in a meaty fist.

“No!” Marlene cried out as she kicked at him, trying to stop the giant from descending on her. He barely grunted as she connected with his thigh, the mass of it thick enough that it hurt _her_ to strike it.

“No, please, no!” she screamed as he reached out with his other hand and wrapped it into her short, dark hair. Just short enough to infuriate her parents, but long enough that Mark could still grab it. The beast of a man gripped it tight and forced her neck back with barely a tug.

Her scalp was on fire, and a scream choked her, her mouth opened wide on instinct and allowing the dirt-flavored fabric into her mouth.

“Bind her up too, brother,” Potbelly called from the hall. “Don’t want her pulling it out until we get up.”

Before she could so much as claw at him, Leatherhead had her flipped, down on her belly, one hand wrapped almost fully around both her thin wrists as he grabbed up something from just out of her sight. New strips of leather, just as thick and cracked as those on her ankles, found their way around her wrists before she was set down on the bed. 

Marlene rolled over, screaming against the rag stuffed down against her tongue, tears in her eyes, and her cut lip stung against the rough fabric.

“There, finally,” Potbelly grumbled as Leatherhead stood up and took a step back. He stared down at her, head cocked slightly to the side, with his large eyes peeking out of the mask of another man’s face.

“Come on, now, g’it to your room already. You’ve got bonemeal to make tomorrow.”

The man turned without a second look at her before disappearing out the door. 

“Sleep tight,” came the maniacal, sing-song voice of the hitchhiker from the hall.

All she could give back was a muffled scream of rage. 

————————-

“Give ‘er that and make sure she drinks at least half,” Big brother said as he shoved a bottle of the foul-smelling vodka at him. “That should keep her nice an’ quiet. How she can make so much noise through the damn gag is beyond me. Besides, I’m sure she’d love a drink.”

Leatherface took the bottle carefully. The last time he had dropped one, he had gotten in a lot of trouble, and he didn’t want that again. Instead, he just nodded and held it cradled to his chest. 

“And make sure she keeps drinking it. Grandpa hasn’t had a nightcap in a long while. Want her blood-alcohol high enough he can taste it himself.”

Leatherface wasn’t too sure what that meant, but he nodded. 

“Good. Now, get your chores done. I’ll be back late. Gotta actually pick up our overzealous idiot tonight. Can’t have another car go missing this week, and we both know he doesn’t have enough sense in his head to not try and get someone to drop ‘im here.”

All Leatherface did was nod again, watching as his brother turned and headed out the door, grumbling about Little brother and work. Leatherface never really did understand that. Why would he be upset about getting to leave the house? It sounded like it could be fun. But, then again, he still had shakey memories from when he was a child. People pointing and laughing at him as he walked behind their Ma, Big brother walking protectively next to them and snapping at them all as she weaved along with him and Little brother next to her, holding their hands tight with her calloused fingers and cracked nails.

Upstairs, he heard a groan from the storeroom and went to do his first chore of the day. As he went, he gave a small wave to Grandpa, who was sitting asleep in his chair. The jar from the night before sat empty next to him, with only a few smears of brownish-red at the bottom of the glass and the base of the straw. He would have to take that down to be washed.

Leatherface undid the door lock easily before pushing inside. The young doe sat on the floor; she was all legs and a thin waist. They wouldn’t get much meat off of her either, but she might make some good headcheese, and maybe a couple of candles with the handfuls of fat that made up her chest. His eyes lingered on them a moment. He’d seen plenty of breasts in his time, he had to skin them after all, but he still found something about them interesting. They were always so soft when still warm.

The doe looked up at him, eyes wild and surrounded in black like a raccoon’s. He kind of liked how they did that. Maybe he’d try that instead of the green on his current mask. 

She shied away from him as he came in, screaming out around the gag. He stuck his hands out, showing that all he came with was the bottle. This sometimes calmed them before a butchering or feeding. She stared at the bottle for a moment before shaking her head. It was going to be tough getting this one to drink, he could tell.

“Stop,” was the first word out of her mouth as he pulled out the gag. “Stop, stop!” But it was just noise as he pushed the neck of the bottle to her lips. She fought it at first, making it slosh around. With a grunt, he grabbed her by the back of her head, tugging as he was taught, and made it so it would be easier to feed the foul-smelling stuff down her throat. 

He did it a little at a time, making sure to push her jaw shut so that she didn’t spit it out. He’d had stock do that before, and it was never fun to have to fix his masks after.

She thrashed about for a little while as he slowly got the first bit down into her belly, then a little more until her fighting stopped, and she just let out little groans between swallows. When he’d gotten almost a quarter down, he pulled back, allowing her to breathe without her head pulled back. 

The doe heaved, and he worried for a moment all the vodka he poured into her was going to go to waste. If it did, he was the one who would get in trouble for it.

She kept it down, though, and while she heaved again, it was only followed by spit and some coughing. 

“Why?” she asks as he gently pushed some of the short hair from her face. “Why?” 

She looked back up at him, and the blue of her irises were a ring around the black. He didn’t know what to do to that noise, so he instead tilted the bottle toward her. He was surprised when she opened her mouth. Maybe they could keep this one around for a little while.

Big brother’s voice played in his head as he thought it, _"They’re nothing but stock. And stock don’t last long.”_

Leatherface pushed the idea away. 

————————-

Marlene was in a haze. She wasn’t sure the last time she ate real food, let alone water, leaving the vodka as the only thing in her system. That, mixed with whatever drugs were still left in her blood, she was feeling...floaty. 

Yes, her wrists still hurt and felt numb in places, even after the big man had unwrapped them, letting her suckle from the bottle and then use the bucket in the corner to relieve herself. He had left when she’d done that, surprisingly, giving her privacy. 

She’d sat back on the bed before she snatched the bottle he’d left behind back up. Merlene kept drinking.

It was better than thinking, at least, and soon she found herself curled up, crying softly as she thought about Mark. Where was he? Had he left her? Had he _sold_ her? He’d threatened it a couple of times, when they were really high, saying he could get enough to keep him in dope for the rest of his life if he did. 

But he wouldn’t do that. Would he? He wouldn’t leave her here?

They had to have done something to him, but what? 

She kept drinking. She didn’t want to think, and while the vodka burned, her body craved something. Marlene felt her blood itch with the alcohol, and when she shifted to lay on her belly, she felt something in her pocket. Digging into it with her free hand, she found the small bag of powder. The bag that they’d bought just before leaving the party last night.

“Hehe,” she laughed gently as she opened the little bag, trying to make sure nothing spilled due to her shaking fingers. “If you won’t let me out, I’ll find my own way out,” she muttered as she tapped some of the smack out into the hollow between her thumb and forefinger. She sniffed hard, feeling the powder dance up into her sinuses, burning. Not how she’d usually do it, but she had no needles, and the ankle she usually shot into was wrapped in the leather.

“Can’t get me if I get me,” she chuckled as she felt the first fireworks go off in her brain. She did it again and laid back.

The bag sat next to the bed as Marlene stared at the ceiling, blinking with unfocused eyes. She’d take another hit in a minute. She was going to at least enjoy the high first before she offed herself. 

—————

Leatherface came back an hour or so later, his hands freshly washed from being covered in bonemeal; his body damp with sweat from the summer heat. He dabbed at the back of his neck with a towel, stained brown but mostly clean as he went up the stairs. He kept hearing something strange for the doe’s room, sounds he wasn’t sure about. 

When he got to the top of the stairs, he could hear her groaning, though it wasn’t like anything he’d experienced before. He’d never heard one of their stock make these sounds. 

He passed Grandpa, who was sitting in his chair, head lolled so he could look at the door. He didn’t pay Leatherface any mind. Leatherface walked past him and opened the door.

What he found made him freeze.

The doe was missing her shirt, the dirty clothing having been flung away. The pants she had been wearing were shoved down over the chain along with a splash of color, which he realized were her undergarments. Her not being clothed wasn’t what surprised him, though. What surprised him was finding her laying on the mattress, legs spread, and her fingers pushing down between her thighs. 

“Ooooooo,” she groaned as he watched her fingers move in and out, in and out, creating slick sounds and squelches like when he fished his fist into the chest-cavity to get out all the innards.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, hips humping upward as her fingers kept moving. He found himself walking in slowly, hands wringing together as he felt heat gathering in his groin. Big brother called it a ‘hard-on’, something that he should only get when looking at a woman. But he hadn’t seen women outside of their stock, and stock was for eating. 

“Oh!” She stopped suddenly, sitting up only to flop back with a giggle. 

“Roooooom’spinnin,” she slurred as she looked up at him. He watched her reach for the bottle with slick fingers. “You lik’ta spin biiiiig guy?” She sat up and took a swig from the bottle before giggling again and looking down at his waist. “Bet yer biiiiiiiiig,” she continued as she spread her legs wide to show off the hair between her legs; it was dark, slick, and shiny. 

“C’mere,” she said, waving him over with a limp hand. “Le’me see.”

This was strange. Why wasn’t she still screaming? Why was she...smiling? What was that strange smell in the air? 

Leatherface found himself shuffling forward until he was standing just in front of her. 

“Theeeeere we go big’uy,” she grumbled as she got up on unsteady knees. “Jusssst like ‘dat.” 

When her hands first grabbed his pants, he grabbed her wrists, but all she did was giggle.

“Don’ worry,” she said as her fingers kept moving, undoing his belt and unzipping his work pants. “Just gonna’ take a lil’ooksey.”

The heat in his groin was growing, and he knew that his hard-on was just going to keep getting bigger. Why was she trying to see it? Big brother never wanted to see it, and Little brother always made fun of him when he got one. So why?

The airy whistle took him by surprise as his cock pushed out from his pants, tenting his underwear. 

“Now thatssssome meat,” she giggled as she pushed her hand to it. 

The touch made him cry out in surprise as a shock of pleasure slide up his dick, making his head fuzzy for a moment as he pulled her hands away in surprise.

“Ooooowwwa,” she grumbled as she tugged at his hands. “Not’sa hard.”

He loosened his grip in surprise.

“Wha’s wrong, you a viiiirgin or somethin?” 

Leatherface cocked his head to the side. Big brother had called him that once, a ‘big dumb virgin’ before wacking him over his cock after being caught touching himself. He covered himself instinctually.

“Awwww, sshhhh, honey no. It’s okay.” She gave him a watery smile, the ring of blue in her eyes smaller than before. 

“Com’ere. Let me help you ‘fore I leave. You helped meee after all.”

Her hands moved towards his cock again, and Leatherface didn’t do anything but hold her wrists as she grabbed the fabric around his hips and pulled down. 

“There we go,” she cooed, her fingers pulling away his underwear to let him hang heavy in front of her.

“Daaaamn,” she said as she tried to wrap her fingers around it, but they couldn’t fully fit around the base. “I wan’ this.” She grinned up at him before giving him a wink. 

She held up a little bag with one hand as she held him up with the other, his cock pulsing in her palm. He watched on with fascination as she tapped out a the white powder along his shaft, making a crude line.

“This’ll make you small reeeeal nice,” she giggled before pushing her nose against him. He gasped as she took a hard sniff, shoving her nose up along his shaft and into the bush of pubes at the base.

She groaned with him before letting his cock fall as she flopped back.

“Okay big guy,” she murmured, her legs splitting open wide for him to see her slicked cunt beneath the hair above it. “Shov’it in me.”

Leatherface felt his cock pulse. She wanted him to put his thing...there? 

That’s what they did in the magazines Big brother had, but she was stock. Could he real—

“Stop thinkin’ big man. Get down here.” She sat up and tugged at the edge of his shirt, and Leatherface moved with her pull. He found himself down on his knees, her legs wrapping around his hips.

She was warm, so warm, and her hand was hot as she helped push the head of his dick against the slick lips of her pussy. 

“Just gotta push for me,” she murmured. 

Leatherface nodded before he did as she said and, well, pushed. For a moment, he wasn’t sure he was going to do anything, the head pushing forward to nothing but resistance. 

She hissed a little, wiggled her hips, and moved him around with her hand, then suddenly, he was wrapped up in heat. It was slick and hot, different from his hand, or pushing it against a pillow. Soft and tight all at once. And the sound she made: a scream like nothing he’d ever heard before. 

His hips moved automatically, pushing her along the mattress as she grabbed at him, fingers tearing into his back as she panted and cried out. He felt himself sink further into her, but not all the way. She kept moving each time he tried to thrust, her body being pushed up the mattress by his bulk. He sat back, a grunt of annoyance in his throat as he grabbed her hips and _pulled_. 

“AH!” her cry came out sharp as he felt the tip of him bump hard against something. Her body bounced back from his thrust as she struggled slightly. 

“T-too much,” she panted even as her hips rolled down to meet his thrust. “Ohhhhh, fuck. Biiig,” she panted, drool trickling out of the corner of her mouth as he kept pulling her down. She was so light in his hands, so small, and it was easy to move her as her legs flopped out to the side as he used her.

Her waist was so small that his fingers were almost able to meet, making it easy to maneuver her and pull her tight, wet cunt down on his cock. 

“F-fuck,” she choked out as he sat back. He wanted to see if he could fit more of himself inside, and kneeling wasn’t working. He was too large, his body eclipsing hers. Sitting back helped as he took one hand off of her to help him sit down on the mattress, his back to the wall. He hoisted her up, forcing her up onto her boneless knees with one hand as the other helped line her back up.

Gravity made things easier, allowing him to roll his hips as he lifted her up and down. She kept making little gasping sounds, her body splitting open to take him, and he was lost to it. There was nothing but the heat.

————————

It burned. All of it burned. Her insides, her brain, the pleasure that kept morphing into pain as he filled her to bursting. Was she bleeding? Was she just wet? Was this the best sex she’d ever had or the worst?

Marlene’s brain couldn’t put two and two together anymore. Instead, it took in the spectrum and rammed it down a funnel, just like how this beast-faced thing was filling her. Yet, she couldn’t say anything. Her tongue flopped around in her mouth like a dead fish in a bucket, spilling saliva over her lips as her hands spasmed against his chest. His shirt had raised up some, allowing Marlene’s fingers to dig into thick, sweat-slicked hair that covered his chest. 

Air was harder to pull in as he kept her moving, slamming it out of her with each pull down. The most she could do was weakly curl her fingers into his chest, let little sounds escape with what air was left, and let her eyes turn into nothing but a kaleidoscope of shades of brown and shadows as she felt herself slipping. 

Motor functions went first, and her body became nothing but a rag doll. That got a strangled cry from him when she flopped forward, unable to keep her core going anymore. There was a moment where her lower body stopped burning for a moment, then she was flying, crushed, and the air was gone. 

He breached her again, and while she could feel the pressure, there was no sensation anymore. It was all in her head: stuffed with flaming serotonin that had her suffocating on the intensity of it. A high like no other that was blacking down into the brightest little pinpoint.

Marlene’s lips pulled into a grimace of a smile as she followed it.

————-

Leatherface’s voice was a series of grunts as he held the doe tight against his chest, bearhugging her to keep her body in place as he braced his back against the wall. It let him move his hips and thrust up into her as he kept her still with his upper body.

Her insides were fluttering about him in ways he didn’t know were possible. He’d rarely been inside things while they were still alive, and even then, it was always his hands. This, though, he wanted to keep going, forever if he could. He’d lock up the little doe and make sure they could do this again. He’d bring her all the vodka and white powder she wanted, even the better bits of the ribs and things. Maybe even her own juice jar.

The ideas flitted about in his brain like flies, unsure of which viscera to land on as he watched her head loll from side-to-side. Her eyes were blown black, but the ridges of blue were so bright, so vibrant. He tried to follow them as he kept going, sweat making his mask slip against his face as he panted and groaned.

A feeling of completion was coming. Like when he finished butchering something and got a nod of approval from Grandpa — a swelling that happened in his groin instead of his chest. 

“Muhaaaaaah,” he groaned as he held the doe close, face pushed into her short hair that smelled of sweat, blood, and sweet things. Flowers on a dusty summer’s day.

He felt the first pulse as he held her in place, buried as deep as could be, and squeezed. Leatherface hugged her like his life depended on it, like she was the last bit of food in a world ravaged by famine. He sobbed against her shoulder, face in her hair, and felt himself empty inside her. Ropes of something thick and warm dripped down his dick and thighs and smeared down hers.

He heard her give a little gasp against him as a hard spike a pleasure tore into his belly. Leatherface’s arms spasmed, squeezed, and against the muscle of his stomach, her body gave. 

There was no scream, no death throes. A gasp, a shudder, and then her body grew loose around him and she lolled to the side.

Breathing hard, Leatherface pulled back so he could look down at her. His doe’s head lolled to the side; her lips were pulled back in a smile. The lips looked so red, so raw, and without any of that reddish tar so many rubbed on it.

He gave a grunt and shook her gently. Everything about her ragdolled in his arms: he did it again, then again, his grunts becoming more and more worried. What had happened to his doe? What was wrong with her? 

But no matter what he did, she wouldn’t wake up.

_”They’re nothing but stock. And stock don’t last long.”_

With a sniffle, he pulled her up and off his softening hard-on, and set her aside gently. Quickly, he pulled his own clothing on before undoing the lock around her ankle. It was a little harder than usual, his head foggy and tired and his hands shaking. He managed, though, and soon he was shuffling past Grandpa, who gave him a toothless smile and a little nod. He’d never seen him do that before, and Leatherface felt a blush under the mask as he realized the door had been opened the whole time.

At least it hadn’t upset Grandpa.

Taking the doe down, he laid her on the slab. She was still warm as he set her down, her lower body not quite lined up with the rest of her from the break in the spine. He felt his eyes grow a little warm. He wished she could have stayed a little longer, stock or not. 

But that’s all she was now, stock, and she needed to be butchered. 

He cleaned her thoroughly, was careful to take as much blood as possible for Grandpa’s nightcap, and before the smile could leave her face, he made sure to slice it off. It was such a nice smile. He wanted to wear it too.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on twitter or CuriousCat!  
> [NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/leticheecopae)  
> [SFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/FluffyLeti)  
> [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/leticheecopae)


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